


Lipstick Stains

by rockethop



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Oral Sex, Sleepy Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockethop/pseuds/rockethop
Summary: Leslie wakes Ben up in the middle of the night because she misses him, amongst other things. A follow-up to "Rubber Bands".
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Lipstick Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fourth of July to those in the US. Please register to vote if you haven't already. ♥
> 
> This takes place the (early) morning after my story "Rubber Bands", but you can read this as a standalone. But you'll probably enjoy this more if you've read the other story!

There’s a pull at his skin, followed by the pop of suction breaking, then the process begins in a new spot on his bare chest. Ben’s eyelids flutter open, warm light from the lamp on the adjacent nightstand washing over the body of the naked woman leaving lipstick marks on his chest.

“Good morning,” Leslie murmurs before returning her lips to his skin.

“Yeah, what time is it?” He squints in the direction of the alarm clock.

“No, no, no,” she pleads. “Don’t look. It’s early and you’ll chastise me for it. I just missed you.”

She takes his nipple between her mouth and swirls her tongue around it.

“Are you going to say it back?” Leslie goads.

“Say - huh?” He mumbles, partially from being half-awake, partially from arousal.

“Are you going to say good morning?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He tilts her chin and presses his lips to hers. “Good morning. Why the lipstick?”

He glances down at his chest which has been adorned with smudged marks. He can’t tell, but Ben is almost certain that there are traces of lipstick on his face and mouth as well.

“Well,” Leslie starts. “Red is associated with lust and power, which makes it a favorite of women. And I thought that since you were such a big fan of the red last night, that I’d break out my old friend, ‘Hellacious Wench’.”

Her hands move to grasp at his forearms. She presses a lingering kiss to his sternum.

“Would you like to try it on?” She asks him.

Ben’s chest shakes gently. “I think I’m already wearing quite a bit of it.”

Leslie hums and moves her palms to his hips. “I was thinking you could try it on a bit _lower_. Yeah?”

He swallows thickly. “Y-yeah.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly before trailing down his body, leaving stains across his abdomen. She presses her palms to the skin surrounding his erection, dragging her nails gently.

“I could feel you packing heat since I woke up.” She purrs and presses a red mark to the inside of his thigh before taking him into her mouth.

“Fuck, Leslie,” Ben sighs. “I… what do I do with my hands?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” She replies and swirls her tongue around his head.

“In your hair? Is that too much?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” She repeats, more sultry this time.

His hands rest awkwardly on her shoulders. She takes him further into her mouth, tightening her mouth around him. Leslie stares up at Ben through her lashes, pushes further, and stifles a cough. He pushes himself up on his forearms to assess her with concerned eyes but is thrown off guard when she casts him a wink.

He grunts and shoves a hand into her hair, grabbing a fistful as leverage. The tension at the back of her scalp prompts her to moan that transitions to a giggle at the sight of Ben in a trance-like state. She introduces her hand to his shaft, twisting and pulling at the smooth skin.

Her head starts bobbing when the familiar warmth begins to pool in his belly and he tugs her upward with the hand in her hair.

“What’s wrong?” She asks while batting her lashes with faux innocence.

“I don’t want…” he pants.

“You don’t want a pretty lady to suck your cock?”

He groans. “I don’t want to finish this way.”

“You don’t want to finish in my mouth?” Her lips slip into a pout. “You don’t want to explode like fireworks on Independence Day in my hot, wet-”

“Leslie, I need you to stop talking. Or I won’t be able to prevent what comes next.”

“Hey-o.” Her grip tightens once more. “Really. I don’t mind if it’s something that you would like. It’s actually kind of erotic.”

He feels clammy. Because no, it’s not _kind of_ erotic, it’s extremely fucking hot.

His voice cracks, “Yeah? Have you ever?”

She purses her lips and shakes her head yes. “Once.”

_Okay, yeah, yep._

He nods his approval and she begins working him again.

It’s not long before he’s shaking and pulsing against the back of her throat, body trembling and mind blank save for the waves of ecstasy washing over him. Leslie pushes herself into a sitting position, runs her hand over his length to remove the lipstick, and makes an elaborate display of swiping the fluid from her lips with her tongue.

“Ben, look at me,” she coaxes.

His eyes open weakly and she closes her mouth and swallows. He shudders.

“Les,” he says breathily.

She crawls back up his chest. “Mhmm?”

“I never… holy shit.”

“You’ve never gotten a blowjob before?” Her head tilts ever so slightly.

“No, no, I have, I’m not some loser.” He laughs and drags his hands down his face. “I just - holy shit - I’ve never had anyone do _that_.”

Leslie tosses her hair over her shoulder pompously.

Ben clears his throat. “Is it bad if I still want to…”

“To fuck?” Leslie smacks her lips together.

“Something like that.” He replies. She collapses to his chest and presses her forehead to his neck. “I just don’t know how well that would go.”

“Whenever you’re ready, babe.” She presses a kiss to his salty skin.

They lay motionless for a few minutes.

“Okay,” he says. “I think I’m ready. I might not last though.”

She runs her hand over his shoulder and gives him an affirming squeeze. “That’s fine. You don’t have to come, I don’t have to either. I just want to be with you. Right here, right now.”

He pushes into her, his thrusts slow, sporadic, and lazy. Their bodies press together, her forehead slick with his sweat and hand over his beating heart, his pressed against the valley of her back.

“Leslie,” he yawns. “It’s not going to last. I’m not going to be able to keep it up.”

“Okay, honey.” She replies while attempting to suppress her own yawn.

Their breathing calms, their hands traveling idly over each other’s skin, drawing shapeless patterns.

“I thought about waking you up like that,” Leslie says after a moment. “But I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to or not.”

“Leslie.” He chokes. “Oh my god. Please. Please wake me up like that.”

She giggles. “Okay. Go back to sleep, then.”


End file.
